


Day 7: Monster in the Basement

by GemmaRose



Series: Lost Light Fest 2018 [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cassetticon Hot Rod, Gen, Injury, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye Issue 15 (IDW)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 14:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16221482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Millions of meta-cycles ago, Hot Rod perched on the knee of a superwarrior and gave him his most charming smile. A few months ago, he let Prowl strap that same superwarrior to the bottom of his ship in the hopes of discovering a way to defeat Megatron once and for all. Today, the past comes back to haunt him in exactly as violent a manner as expected.





	Day 7: Monster in the Basement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SirenSong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenSong/gifts).



Overlord was speaking. His words were lost to the cacophony of combat, but the timbre of it cut through straight to Rodimus’s spark. Fear flashed through him at the tone, full of a cruel sort of excitement that was far, far more familiar than he’d ever admit. He leapt up, abandoning dignity in favour of grabbing the nearest bit of kibble he could reach and scrambling up to be able to see what was happening.

“I’m laughing because you’ve not been holding back, and I have.” Overlord all but purred, and Rodimus couldn’t help the scream that tore from his throat as Overlord’s fist went _through_ the chest of one of his best friends.

“ **MAGNUS!** ” he hauled himself up to stand fully on Cosmos’s shoulders, plating rippling as it tried to simultaneously flare out in anger and clamp down in fear. “Tear him apart!” he ordered, and Cosmos rushed forward with the rest of the full sized mechs as Rodimus crouched and gripped his helm to keep steady. If the communications specialist minded, he didn’t make any indication of it. Cosmos stumbled as someone pushed past him, and Rodimus took the opportunity to launch himself forward and up, flames building under his plating.

“Helm up, Over-” he choked as a huge hand sealed around his chassis, forefinger and thumb wrapping tight around his throat and forcing his helm up. His optics met Overlord’s, and he spotted a spark of recognition in their crimson depths. The same spark he’d seen the second time they met, so long ago.

“Rod.” Overlord’s lips curled in a smirk, smug and vicious and fond all at once in the way only he could quite manage. “You’ve grown.”

“You don’t want to do this.” he wheezed, kicking as Overlord’s grip loosened only just enough for him to cycle air through his vents.

“No, you don’t want me to do this.” Overlord’s engine purred, and the sound that had once filled Rodimus with excitement now filled him with fear. This, he realized abruptly, was what Soundwave had been protecting him from millions of meta-cycles ago by demanding Megatron not station any of his cassettes near Overlord or send them on missions with him. He’d been unable to keep them from running into each other on base though, unable to stop the thrill that had run through him when Overlord had met Hot Rod’s optics across the mess hall and smiled like he wanted to steal him away for his own.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me back then, if you couldn’t handle my _affections_.” Overlord murmured, his smirk growing into a full on grin, the kind Rodimus had seen him wear in the training room while ripping apart holomatter opponents in increasingly gruesome ways. Overlord’s free hand came up in front of his face, the plating on his fingertips transforming back to reveal sharp, shiny new weapons that Rodimus could only date as having been applied sometime after Simanzi. There was no way Overlord wouldn’t’ve showed them off when they were brand new, and fool that he’d been Hot Rod would’ve been front and center to examine them.

“You like my finger-drills?” Overlord’s denta glinted, pink with energon from Primus-knew where. “I wanted needles but-” Overlord paused, his smile softening nigh imperceptibly. “Oh, I'm sorry. I meant to ask: any last words?” his tone was something near to mocking, and Rodimus could only think of one thing to say to that question.

“Yeah.” he spat, rekindling the fire under his plating and pushing it as hot as he could stand. “‘Til all are one.”


End file.
